A/N: You guys want to know something awesome? My top 4 highest viewing countries? In order: America, France, the UK, and Canada…My top 4 is the damn FACE family and that makes me so happy. 3
Now, because Anna (yes, you…), no worries about your English. I've had a lot of people come in that didn't natively speak English and I'm just proud of you for making the effort. Rare pairs are fun, too. I fell down some GerAme rabbit holes a couple days ago and some of it was really cute. But for now, I'm going to get to some excitement now, ok? I'll see you down at the end with the others.
Britain had a beautiful bathroom. Marble sinks, gold fixtures. And the best part? The giant soaking tub in front of a big picture window. The view of the night sky from here was absolutely breathtaking. Every twinkling little star gave me such a warm feeling. They remind me of home. Although the stargazing got me feeling homesick, I think I'm going to like it here. France began running the water, making sure it wouldn't be too hot. Ever since we've met, he's been more than accommodating. Almost like he's willing to love and protect me like his own.
"Well, Terra," France turned the water off as soon as the tub was full. But then, he started pouring small vials into it. Whatever they were, they smelled sweet. I like it, "Would you like for me to leave you alone?"
"You don't have to leave," I allowed, "Besides, it's not like you haven't seen me naked before. And the company would be nice.
"I haven't seen you naked this close," he pointed out, "Not that I'm shy, but I thought I'd ask first."
"Thank you," I dropped his coat and stepped into the warm water. This was nice. This was very nice. My old, aching bones were feeling whatever voodoo was in this bathtub.
"Mon dieu," France gasped, reaching out for my bare skin, "Forgive me if it's not my place, but how much battle have you seen in your lifetime?"
"Too much," I shuddered, shaking some dark memories out of my thoughts, "Why do you ask?"
"All of your scars," he traced his finger over a few of them as gently as possible, "They look like they hurt."
"Those?" Now, I understood better, "Oh, no. All my scars aren't from fighting."
"What…?" France gave me a look.
"No," I reiterated, "Every scar is more of a symbol of life rather than death. Each one signifies another birth of a bouncing, beautiful baby."
"You have children?" France awed, "But you look so young."
"Flattered," I nodded, "But yeah. Quite a few of them."
"I see someone gets around," he teased, getting a washcloth for me, "Not that I'm judging. I don't have the room to."
"No," I clarified, "All of them came from the same father."
"Good for you," France praised, looking my scars over some more, "Then, going by the number of them, is it safe to assume you're Catholic?"
"I don't think I am…"
"If you ever get the chance to see Britain drunk," he suggested, "Ask him if he's Catholic or Protestant. He'll go on a ten-minute-long rant just to come to the conclusion he doesn't know."
"Why would I do that to him?" I giggled, "That just seems cruel."
"It's fun for a cheap laugh," France winced a little, reaching for another scar, "Are you sure they don't hurt?"
"Not anymore," I assured, "They did at first, but that's birth. It's supposed to hurt."
"Do you ever see them?" he asked.
"Not as much as I like," I shrugged, "But I do. Some of them are gone. It's ok, though. Circle of life. I understand."
"You take that well," France put a hand to my forehead.
"Their children are still around," I felt my eyelids get heavy.
"That's comforting," he didn't look pleased, "You're still too warm. Why don't we get you to bed? Hopefully, your fever will break by morning."
"If it doesn't?"
"We'll figure something out," France got a towel for me and helped me out of the tub, "On a positive note, you're clean again. Now, we can get you a bed and some proper rest. Are there any sort of materials you don't like?"
"Anything's fine."
"Good," he brought me into a bedroom down the hall, sitting me down on the bed, "Because you strike me as the type that would be absolutely stunning in silk."
"Sounds good," I allowed. Personally, a nice, soft flannel would've been better, but given my fever, I'm sure something cooler would be the smart way to go. France came out from the closet with a set of rose-colored pajamas. They looked awfully comfortable.
"Here," France gave them to me, "Put these on. I understand sleeping naked. If anyone can understand, it's me. Britain only sleeps naked when…Well, I won't bore you with the details. But given your condition, you should probably put some clothes on. Not to mention, sharing a house with two strange men…"
"I'm not shy either," I threw the top over my head, "But thank you, France."
"You're welcome," he smiled at me, "Now, are you going to be ok on your own for the night?"
"I think so," I slid my shorts up my legs.
"Alright," France pulled me onto my feet, only to pull my blankets back, "Go on, ma petite fille. It's alright."
I got in bed on the other side, snuggling down into the warm blankets. Oh, yeah. This is so much better than the gutter. Then again, anything was better than the gutter. When I'm here, I knew that at least one person cared about me…And I wouldn't be spat on…I laid my head on my savior's shoulder, "Really, France…Thank you."
"You're very welcome," he pulled the other blankets over me, "Are you comfortable? Do you need anything else?"
"I'm fine," I moved my heavy, weary head to my pillows, "I wouldn't want to be a burden."
"You're not," France promised, taking my hands, "You couldn't ever be a burden on me, cheri. I swear to you. Now, get some sleep."
"Only if you do the same," I bargained, fighting back a giant yawn I felt coming on.
"Deal," he leaned over and gently placed a kiss on my forehead, "Bonne nuit, Terra. I'll see you in the morning."
"Good night, France," I shut my eyes for just a second. Shortly after France had turned the lights off, I was borderline comatose. When was the last time I slept? I knew it had been a while, but to warrant this? Maybe it was something France had put in my bath making me so sleepy. I knew certain herbs when used together could help with sleep. Or I just needed a damn nap.
The next morning, I woke up in a bit of a trance. I had forgotten what the bedroom France had put me in looked like. Simple. Gray curtains, blue bedding, and more pillows than one person had the right to. Not that I was complaining. The extra comfort was nice. As was the sweet smell wafting through the air. My god, what was that? Color me curious. I got out of bed and followed the smell. Although, it wasn't easy. Britain's house was like a big maze.
"Her fever broke," France began. Maybe I should stay back. Just to hear what they think about me unfiltered, "So, we can call that a win."
"Good," Britain scoffed, "Now, we can find out more about who she really is and who she's working for."
"Honestly, Arthur," France groaned, "We're not going to start pumping Terra for information already. From what I've seen, I'm pretty sure she's harmless. The fact that you even brought it up is twisted."
"There's no such thing as being too careful," Britain took a long drink from his tea cup. Still doubting me, huh? France warned me that Britain could be a bit prickly, "What should we do with her?"
"We can't just abandon her." It's so nice that France is on my side, "If it really means that much to you, Terra can always come live with me."
"If you want to bring her into your house," Britain brushed him off, "Who am I to stop you?"
"Why won't you give her a chance?" France argued, "Terra's just a little girl down on her luck."
"Francis," Britain let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, "The last time you brought a stray in, we ended up with Matthew."
"And we wouldn't trade him for the world, would we?"
"Well…" Britain pouted a bit, "No. But…"
"Alright then," France put his foot down, "I think you know my stance."
"You're right, France," I walked out, "It's unfortunate, but true."
"Good morning, Terra," France got me a chair, "Did you sleep well?"
"Very," I took a seat at the breakfast table. And the beautiful landscape of the breakfast table made me salivate, "Britain, did you make all of this?"
France erupted in the most raucous belly laugh I have ever heard while Britain glared daggers into him, "No, Terra. I didn't. I'm not allowed to use my own kitchen in my own bloody house."
"I did," France came down, still a tad giggly, "Britain's not allowed to cook when I'm here for his own personal safety. Not to mention, anyone around him. No one deserves Britain's cooking."
"Piss off!"
"I'm sure your cooking is fine, Britain," I stopped those two from killing each other.
"Thank you," Britain held his glare, "I'm glad someone thinks so."
"Because she doesn't know any better," France teased, pushing Britain a little more, "Terra, I've used British food as a threat before. And it works."
"No," I wasn't going to let this go on anymore, "Enough fighting."
"Fine," France agreed. One down.
"Alright," Britain followed suit, appreciating my efforts, "Terra, are you more of a coffee person or a tea person?"
"Tea at night," I told him, "But coffee in the morning. Definitely coffee. Dark roast, if you have it."
"I can handle that!" France jumped up, "I love him dearly, but Britain wouldn't know a good cup of coffee if it bit him in that cute, little ass of his."
"I heard that!" Britain turned bright red.
"And I meant every word of it!" France really knew how to push Britain's buttons, didn't he?
"Forgive me for having a bit of class," Britain grumbled under his breath.
"Britain," I wondered, "Have you and France always been like this?"
"Like what?" he took a delicate sip from his tea.
"Well," I pointed out, "You two are practically a married couple. You fight like one anyway."
"We're not," Britain got defensive, "France is just a giant flirt and he knows how it drives me mad."
"We've done all but sign the papers," France came back with a cup of hot coffee in his hands for me. Bless him.
"We're not married!"
"You're cute when you're angry, Angleterre," France winked at him from across the table.
"Ugh…" Britain slammed his forehead into the tabletop, "What else is the morning going to give me? What hell awaits?"
"Sir…" one of the house staff panted, "You can't go in…"
"Yo, Britain!" a loud, boisterous voice boomed through the halls.
"Oh, joy," Britain grumbled into the dark oak, "Just the headache I wanted to see today. Not bad enough the frog's here with a stray puppy, but the Yank has to barge in, too. Oh, lucky me."
"Oh…" The loud voice had belonged to a cutie in a bomber jacket. And he instantly caught sight of me, "Hello, Miss Lady…"
"Hi," I smiled, falling victim to his charm.
"Good morning, America," France greeted him, "To what do your father and I owe the pleasure?"
"WE'RE NOT MARRIED!"
"I was just in the neighborhood," he rocked back on his heels, ignoring Britain's outburst, "I thought I'd say hi. But I totally wasn't expecting you to have a girl over here, Britain. Are you cheating on France or is France screwing around?"
"We're not a couple!" Britain snapped, already done with the day before it began.
"Everybody knows better, dude," he brushed him off, "So, who is this beautiful creature?"
"I'm Terra," I introduced myself, "And I'm not sleeping with either one of them."
"Play nice," France warned him.
"I am," he kissed the back of my hand, "Call me America. Or your personal, number one hero of all heroes. Either one will do."
"I think I'll stick with America," I picked, "Personal number one hero of all heroes is a bit of a mouthful."
"What did you really want, America?" Britain refilled his tea.
"I did just come to say hi," America promised, "But then, I realized you had company. Terra, are you busy today?"
I shook my head, "Nothing I know of. Why?"
"I know we just met, like, five minutes ago," he noticed, "But do you want to come and hang out with me?"
"I don't know," I looked toward France, "Do we have plans for today?"
"Not to my knowledge," France unfolded his newspaper, "If you want to go play with America, you're more than welcome."
"Like hell, she is!" Britain stepped in out of nowhere, "She may be a tramp, but Terra is somewhat civilized. God only knows what an afternoon with Alfred would do to her. He's a bad influence."
"Ouch," America winced, "A little harsh, Britain. What did I ever do to you?"
"We don't have that kind of time."
"I wouldn't be a bad influence," America swore, "I promise I'll behave."
"I don't know, Alfred," Britain mulled it over, "She's also been sick lately…I wouldn't want you to catch whatever she has."
"It was just a little fever, Arthur," France stepped in, "It broke and she's feeling better. I think it's safe to let her go out and play."
Britain looked at me, then back at France, then back at me, "Fine. I guess it's not going to kill her."
"And it's not like I have anywhere else to go," I shrugged, "Why not? This could be fun."
"You can come stay at my place!" America insisted, "I mean, my boss won't like it. He's kind of got a personal vendetta against any and all immigrants, but my boss is also kind of a douchebag. Like…A really big douchebag. If you're lucky, you won't have to meet him."
"You keep him away from her," Britain demanded, a raging fire in his eyes.
"I couldn't agree more," France got defensive, too. I've never seen them so unified…or so scary, "Don't you let him near her, America. She is a good girl and doesn't deserve that. Guard her with your life."
"That was the plan!" America chimed, throwing his arm around me, "Besides, what kind of hero doesn't protect the girl in the end, right? It's cool if you come hang with me, Terra. That's no problem."
"I'd love to," I smiled. How bad could America be? He seems like a hell of a guy. And my god, he's so cute! Not in the 'I want to take him home' sense, but the 'I just want to cuddle the shit out of him until either one of us can't see straight' sense.
"Well, hell yeah!" he took my hand, "Come on! Let's go!"
"Be careful!" France called after us.
"We will!" As soon as America shut the door behind me, he had a brilliant idea, "You want to go back to my house and blow stuff up in the desert?"
"Um…" I wasn't sure what to think of him now. He was so…I don't know. He kind of reminded me of a high energy pendulum. Besides, I could already feel that aftershock, "No, thank you. I'd rather not."
"Something a little more low-key, then?" he offered.
"Something that doesn't involve explosives or carbon emissions," I requested, "I like to keep healthy, you know?"
"Fine," America gave it another thought, "Video games at my place?"
"Sounds fun," I beamed, "There's nothing wrong with inflecting harm on people in the virtual world."
"Oh, I'm going to like you!" he threw his arms around me.
And just like that, America and I headed back to his house. PlayStation…Alright. I can get on board with that. Personally, I was more of a Nintendo kind of girl, but go off. Either way, I was excited. Hanging out in America's basement reminded me a little of being back home. Warm, cozy, and more electronics than one person had the right to. Although, the electronics back home were a little more…let's call them organic. The opening for Grand Theft Auto flashed on the screen.
"This is cool with you, right?" America asked, handing me a controller.
"Absolutely," I may have been the type to appreciate peace in the world, but a little mindless violence could be good for the soul. Especially when no one was actually getting hurt.
"So, Terra," he and I began our game, "Where are you from?"
"A really long way from here," I told him, running over a hooker. Whoops. Should I go back and take her cash? No. I'll leave her there. Morality and such.
"You're like Tony!" America squeaked, "Right? Aren't you?"
"I don't know who Tony is…" I gave him a look, "Some context would be nice."
"He's my alien friend," he clarified, "He's a good dude! You'd like him. Especially if you're an alien, too! Then, Tony would have a friend like him!"
"I'm not an alien," I giggled. But then, out of nowhere, I was met with a hail of gunfire. Where the hell was that coming from? And why was I getting hit?!
"Um…Terra?" America braced himself, "You might want to get in a doorway."
"No," I relaxed myself, realizing what was going on, "I'm sorry. I need to go."
"It's alright," he tried stopping me, "Just a little earthquake. I'm sure it'll be fine…"
"America…?" a soft, gentle voice came from the door at the top of the stairs, "Are you ok? I felt a rumble and came over to make sure no one got hurt."
"Everything's A-OK!" America assured, "Terra, you alright?"
"Yeah," I saw a man standing on the stairs, a white bear in his arms, "Hi."
The man looked over his shoulder, "Me?"
"Yes, you," I smiled, "Thank you for coming to check on us. Everything's ok. Anger gets the better of all of us sometimes. Are you a friend of America's?"
"I wouldn't exactly say friend," he giggled. Ok. I know I said America was a cutie, but I think I might like this one more, "More like his little brother."
"Terra, this is Canadia!" America introduced us, "Candid Camera, this is Terra. She's new in town."
"Actually…" he spoke softly, "My name is Canada…"
"Well," I melted inside, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Canada."
"Really?" Canada twitched, "You mean it?"
"Absolutely." Was this guy never shown any affection? "I'm sorry, but can I hug you?"
"Please do!" I love him and I want him protected. Without another thought, I threw my arms around Canada and never wanted to let him go.
"It's too bad I can't stay much longer," I sighed out, "I need to be getting back."
"Where are you staying tonight, Terra?" America asked.
"Probably with France," I figured. Although, given how defensive Britain got over me, I wouldn't be surprised if I was staying there again, "Wherever he'll be."
"Oh," Canada smiled a little, "Ok. We'll see you again, though, right?"
"Of course," I cradled his cheek in the palm of my hand, "I'll be fine. I'll see you guys later."
"See you later, Terra!" America waved me off, as did Canada, and I took off.
By the time I got back to Britain's house, it had already gotten dark outside. My body was completely drained and I could stand another bath. Not too much to my surprise, France had yet to leave. And as far as I'm concerned, anywhere France goes, I'm pretty sure I go, too. One of the house staff escorted me to the drawing room of Britain's house where Britain and France were having what looked like a glass of brandy in front of the fireplace.
"Well…" France looked to the doorway, "Bonsoir, Terra. When did you get back?"
"Just now," I told him, taking a seat between the two, "What's going on in here?"
"Having a drink," Britain offered me a glass, but I turned it down.
"I'm feeling kind of tired," I rubbed my eyes, "I think I may turn in early."
"America has that effect on people," France got up and offered me his hand, "Come on. We can do just the same as we did last night."
"Ok," I wasn't going to fight him. I didn't have that kind of energy. Just as we did last night, France began running the bathtub and I dug in the bedroom closet for a pair of pajamas. By the looks of things, I only had silk to choose from. Not that I'm complaining. They're so comfortable. Even more so was the hot water that soothed my old, aching muscles, "Oh, god…"
"That good, huh?" he jabbed, "I understand. And it is still ok that I'm here, right?"
"I don't mind, France," I assured, "I told you. I'm not shy."
"In that case," France took a seat at the edge of the tub, "Did you like meeting your new brothers today?"
"They're sweet," I smiled, "They really are. Wait…Did you say brothers?"
"I did," he mirrored me, "Terra, Britain and I have been talking today. In fact, you walked in just in time. It makes me so happy to hear you say you're getting along with your brothers. Britain and I are going to sort of adopt you the same way we did with America and Canada. If that's alright with you. We want to keep you in our little family."
My heart was about to burst. If not from meeting America and Canada today, then from France's offer did it. Who was I to say no to something like that? France has been more than just kind to me. And Britain, too, since he's agreed to let me stay in his house. I owed them everything, "Gladly."
A/N: I love America. I'm just going to get that off the table right now. I really do. He's a delight. Especially in this chapter. And everything's going to make more and more sense the deeper we go with this story. No, Terra doesn't know Tony. Will she meet Tony? Maybe. There's always next chapter. No. I'm not introducing her to Tony next chapter. Although, I'm going to try and work at least one new country in every week. I can't wait for next week's. Because next week is going to be possibly cuter than this week's. And can I say how much I love America being a gentleman about Terra being kept away from his boss? And how Britain and France know to keep her away from America's boss? It just…I don't want to get overly political, but I feel like that's just common sense at this point. Now as for this week's question, mostly out of my own curiosity, where are we all? I know I don't just have people from the US reading this. Also, as a bonus, how accurate is the Hetalia portrayal of your country? Because I'd say Alfred F. Jones is just about right. I'll see you next chapter! xx